


baking (growing) up

by hearmyvoice



Series: Team Uncle Week 2020 [2]
Category: Disney Duck Universe, Disney Ducks (Comics)
Genre: Family Fluff, Gen, Growing Up, Light Angst, Parent Scrooge McDuck, Stress Baking, Team Uncle Week, Team Uncle Week 2020 (Disney), Uncle-Nephew Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:22:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27190355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hearmyvoice/pseuds/hearmyvoice
Summary: He recognized that growing up could be a scary aspect for many people and had sensed that his nephew would be no exception even before the first layer of feathers fell.But this was a reaction he hadn't expected to see: it was as if his nephew was directlyafraidof growing up. He couldn't get mad at him if baking was what lifted his mood.(Or: Scrooge found Donald baking on his own.)
Relationships: Donald Duck & Scrooge McDuck
Series: Team Uncle Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1943812
Comments: 1
Kudos: 33
Collections: Team Uncle Week 2020





	baking (growing) up

**Author's Note:**

> day 2. baking/cooking.

Cooking wasn't exactly Scrooge's favorite hobby. Not that the duck was bad at it; but with the tight schedule expected of an adventurous business duck like him, it was strange to see him in the kitchen unless he was supplying before an adventure.

Still, said duck business could detect when someone was in his kitchen. The aroma emanating was sparse, but the sound of utensils being used doesn't. Nor was secretive the voice that proudly sang while its ingredients were being used.

Strangely, this time he could not hear a preteen singing from the rooftops, and instead, he heard the classical music that Duckworth used to listen to when it was just him in the kitchen. Ironically, his employee sought to accustom the boy to that kind of music to no avail; but now that the butler was taking a well-deserved day off, it was when the boy was listening to that genre.

But the fact that his nephew was alone in the kitchen already puzzled the Scotsman, and before he knew it he was crossing the threshold, observing said preteen with flour on his face and the plucked areas of his wings.

True, Donald was already facing the molting that would give him adult feathers to his chagrin, and the duck's annoyance was equivalent to preparing some dessert, noting Grandma's recipe book next to the bowl.

As expected, the boy looked at him with wide eyes when he noticed himself discovered by his uncle, stopping mixing and turning off the radio quickly on a nervous instinct.

"Unca Scrooge, I..." Looking at the brown mass in the little bowl, the young duck realized what a mess his plumage and clothing was, making a face – which Scrooge vainly tried to ignore – when he tried to wipe his body and dragged small, yellow feathers with it, "sorry for the mess! I promise I'll clean up later."

His voice trembled to and was not for the nervousness, Scrooge knew the wee one used to be problematic and show himself proudly when he thought doing the right thing, but he recognized the sobs that he wanted to hide or the reddish degrade on his eyes and beak that betrayed that he had cried. He recognized that growing up could be a frightening aspect for many people and had sensed that his nephew would be no exception even before the first layer of feathers fell.

But this was a reaction he hadn't expected to see: it was as if his nephew was directly _afraid_ of growing up. He couldn't get mad at him if baking was what lifted his mood.

"Wha' are ye preparing, Donnie?" He mouthed, his cane hitting the tile floor being the only sound in the now silent kitchen, smiling lovingly at the aforementioned stunned expression as he paused next to him.

There were a few blinks until Donald pulled himself together, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Oh, er…" he hesitated and Scrooge tried to avoid the nostalgia because when was the last time he saw the not-so-young-anymore nervous duckling, "I was thinking of making a chocolate mousse. I know how much Duckworth likes them, and I had thought in surprising him when he returned from his day off."

His hands fiddled with the hem of his blue shirt, not seeing the knowing smile on his uncle's face at the gesture. In fact, he was grateful that he didn't question his purposes, keeping quiet as his uncle reached for the ladle with which he made the mixture, choosing to focus on the instructions in Grandma Duck's cookbook.

He glances at the bald spot on his wrist, a frown with sadness and anger mingling across his features. Not only because pronto he wouldn't be Uncle Scrooge's duckling anymore, but because he had witnessed the effects puberty had in his classmates, from changes physical up in the conversation topics, focusing primarily on the comments to both boys and girls alike and those indecent jokes that made him nervous and red.

Donald didn't feel ready for what was to come for him, and that terrified him.

"It lacks a pinch of sugar" he looks up, coming out of his trance and watching his uncle analyze the ingredients he has at his disposal, "how aboot Ah help ye?"

The preteen blinked meekly, thinking for a moment that he had misheard. He thought twice when he saw the apex of a smile on the Scottish duck's face.

"What about your paperwork? You said it was very important, and I didn't want to bother you… that's why I thought of coming here,” he confessed, pink color to his cheeks as if he had been caught committing a prank.

He mirths hugging his nephew by the shoulder, fighting against his willpower not to ruffle him because it would be equivalent to feathers floating in the air, feathers that would remind Donald of the reason for the stress that led him to bake behind his back.

"Th' upside tae being yoor own boss, lad, is tha' ye can get the job done anytime ye want." He smiled knowingly, winking at him and feeling satisfied when the younger duck snorted, chuckling as he handed the bowl to his uncle to add the missing sugar.

"Uncle Scrooge, you have no idea what bad advice you just gave me. From now on, all my mistakes will be your fault" he scoffs, as if he had no worries and though Scrooge knows that while he won't dispel Donald's worries about growing up, this was a start and Scrooge was more than willing to cooperate.


End file.
